A Legacy to Protect
by Miss Whip
Summary: A mad scientist needs her henchman as much as a henchman needs a mad scientist to work with. Max's family has a long legacy with Kinga's. Maybe there's a reason for that.


Max sighed and shifted in his chair. The coffee in his cup had gone lukewarm, and he gave it a swirl before lifting it to his lips. It went down with a grimace. In retrospect, he was lucky that Kinga hadn't shot him out of the airlock on the moon base after he'd had Jonah eaten at her wedding.

No, instead, she had put him on the night shift. Monitoring the scope and keeping an eye on their experiment – while he slept. It didn't matter that Jonah had survived and they had managed to put him back in his ship; still part of their test. The first part had been a failure, a complete failure, and it was all his fault.

Not only did he believe that, but so did Kinga. It was what she had screamed at him for at least half a day before commanding him to get out of her sight and sending word to him later that he was on the night shift for the foreseeable future.

That was two months ago. Two months since he'd even seen Kinga, much less spoken to her. He'd written dozens of versions of the same apology letter, but they never sounded right and he was too scared to send them to her. Truth be told he also wasn't comfortable lying to her, and he would be lying if he said he was sorry. Max was sorry that he'd upset her, but he could care less that the wedding was ruined.

He sneered at the scope screen as he watched Jonah turn in his sleep. Jonah didn't deserve Kinga -she was too good for him! He wasn't even evil! He was some useless goody goody do-gooder. In the same thought, Max sighed, no, Jonah wasn't good enough, and neither was her half-assed assistant. Letting his chin fall to his chest, he mentally berated himself up and down. Some smart plan he'd had. What had he been thinking? That she was going to suddenly turn and realize that she loved him like he loved her? All it had bought him was two months of painful solitude. Even the band and the Skeleton Crew had been avoiding him, afraid of incurring Kinga's wrath by proxy.

He was a lonely man.

His cup drained, he dragged himself out of his chair and walked over the machine. It was empty, someone must have snaked the last cup behind his back. He started to make a new pot and was pouring in the grounds when he heard something. Turning, he saw the face of Pearl on his screen.

"Pearl!" He slammed the pot back down and ran back to the screen.

The matriarch of the Forrester family appeared to be looking all over the room, "Is Kinga around?" She didn't bother to lower her voice.

"No, she's asleep." Max involuntarily whispered, tilting his head in the direction of the living quarters.

"Good, the last thing I need is another round of her attitude."

"Where have you been?" He asked, almost instantly regretting his tone.

Surprisingly, Pearl didn't seem to notice the agitation in Max's voice, "Waiting for her to cool down. When that girl gets going, she never shuts up!"

"She hasn't spoken to me for two months."

Pearl's eyebrow raised, "What's your secret?"

Max shrugged, "Ruin her wedding for ratings and make her really hate you?"

"Relax, small-fry, you did good work." The matriarch rolled her eyes and continued to look around.

"I did?"

"Yeah, you're like your father. He cleaned up after Clayton, you clean up after Kinga."

Max was confused, and he studied her face for signs that she was setting him up. Pearl looked completely honest though. "Sometimes I forget you knew my dad." He chuckled. It was the first time he'd cracked a smile in months.

"Who do you think trusted me to leave you to me?" Pearl rolled her eyes again, "Not his smartest move, to be sure, but I'm sure it was better than the foster system."

"Yeah, the Forrester system." Max smoothed his hair back, and he thought a moment about that, "Why didn't you ever try to get rid of me like you did her?"

"Besides the fact that it's always good to have a halfway competent spineless jellyfish around?" Pearl pursed her lips, "Because Kinga was going to need you around."

"Always a second banana." He flopped down into his chair.

"That girl's got too much of her father in her. She's all ambition and no follow through. Frankly, if it wasn't for you and Frank, the Forrester legacy probably would have ended with me."

He felt a twinge of pride, "You mean that?"

"Don't go getting all big for your britches," Now she was chastising him and he felt more at home. Pride never sat too well in his chest, "You and your father have always done the heavy lifting." She shook her head in disgust, "God that's hard to admit."

"I actually think Kinga's pretty good at all this mad scientist stuff." He was talking under his breath, but she caught it.

"She'll never be as good as me until she starts to live up to the Forrester name. Not her father's take on it, but mine!"

"She will, she just needs more time."

"Time? Why do you think I'm here?" Pearl suddenly grew smaller in the frame, and he could see her hands shaking at him, "What the hell have you two been doing for the last two months?"

Max shrugged, "Nothing."

"Exactly! I hear through the grapevine that you've got a test subject up there, mentally recovering, while you could be destroying him!"

"Don't look at me! I can't make Kinga go back to the experiment! She won't even talk to me." He threw up his arms in frustration before running his hand through his hair, "Maybe she actually liked Jonah, I don't know."

At that, Pearl burst into raucous laughter, "Yeah, and I loved Clayton's father!" She clapped her hands together, letting herself dissolve into giggles before wiping away the tears from her eyes along with some runny mascara, "You and Frank – same sense of humor!"

Max wasn't sure how to respond to that. Part of him was relieved that Pearl was treating the ratings-marriage like the joke that he thought it was, but the other part of him knew she was still pissed at them for not getting back to work and the other shoe was going to drop eventually.

It turned out he was very astute about mad scientists, as Pearl did a 180 and suddenly turned serious, "Both of you need to sort this out and get back to work." She ground out each word at him like little knives being shoved into his henchman heart.

"You should talk to her," Max insisted, "She'll listen to you! She'll do whatever you tell her to."

Pearl looked at him as if he just said the dumbest thing she'd ever heard. Considering her two companions, it was a well-practiced gaze, "If I wanted to talk to her, I wouldn't have shown up in the middle of the night, would I?"

"No?"

"If I step in then Kinga will never get it together on her own. That's what you're for!" She pointed at him, jabbing the camera in the process.

"She won't talk to me!"

"What did I say? You're the heavy lifter! Suck it up, face her, and get this experiment back on track. You're a team. Make. It. Work!" The last sentence was punctuated by a snap from her well-manicured fingernails, "Don't forget that your family is part of the Forrester name too."

Max nodded. His father was Clayton's assistant, and his grandfather had been an assistant to Pearl for a very short time before meeting an unfortunate end. One of the few mistakes Pearl seemed to regret and hadn't caused herself. Before that, his great-grandfather, and his great-great-grandfather, and all before them had been some of the most diabolical henchmen to ever… hench? He wasn't sure of the term. Pearl was right, he had a legacy of his own to uphold.

"Yes, Dr. Forrester." He straightened up, lifting his chin and looked her in the eyes.

"That's what I like to hear." She had a severe smile on her face, the kind that only a Forrester can wear. Kinga had gotten that from her.

"I'll get Moon 13 back on track."

"Good, and don't tell my granddaughter that I called."

"Absolutely not." As soon as the words left his mouth, the screen went back to the view of a sleeping Jonah on the Satellite of Love. He hadn't moved an inch since the last time Max had seen him. He tugged on his uniform, putting it into place with an air of perfection. Marching out of the main room, he strode down the hallway. Two members of the Skeleton Crew walked past him, coffee mugs in hand, looking at him as though he were a man walking to his death.

He might be, for all he knew. As he stood outside Kinga's door, he felt like he was going back to that advice that had gotten him in trouble in the first place. Doug McClure's advice to fill Kinga's world with chaos to establish some sort of alpha-maleness fell flat. As he raised his hand to knock on her door, he thought about that moment. Kinga didn't want any chaos, but maybe if he showed some assertiveness – in her world – she would respond more favorably to that? He wasn't sure, but he wasn't ready to give in yet, for his family name, or her.

He knocked on the door, a more jittery knock than he would have liked, but still. It took guts to knock on a mad scientist's door at 3am.

The sound of stomping feet was not long after, and the door slid open with a loud, "What?" Kinga was standing in the door frame, clutching her nightgown around her, clearly groggy. When she saw it was Max, she rolled her eyes and turned away from him. The door started to close and Max stepped into the frame, one hand on the door to hold it back.

"Max, get out!" Kinga tied the belt of her robe, ready to have her hands free for any necessary slapping that her henchman might require since he had clearly lost his mind.

"King – Dr. Forrester – I need to talk to you."

Sitting down the edge of her bed, she folded her arms. She didn't speak, but narrowed her eyes at him. He didn't address her by her formal title very often.

"Okay. As of tonight, I am done with the graveyard shift."

Kinga raised an eyebrow.

"I am coming back on the day shift with you." He realized at this moment that he was pointing at her and he quickly pulled her back, "And if you're still pissed at me, fine. Don't speak to me, you don't ever have to speak to me again, but we need to get this experiment back on track."

Now both eyebrows were up, but her mouth was still closed, her lips getting tighter by the minute.

"Right now, I'm not being much of a henchman, and you're not being a mad scientist."

The eyes went from surprised to murderous.

"We're failing in our mission, and Heston is getting stronger while you –" He swallowed, "sulk."

"I DO NOT SULK!" Kinga got up off the bed, walking toward him with fists clenched at her side.

Max had to fight the urge to step back and flee as she approached. She was chest to chest with him in a matter of seconds, their noses almost touching. No matter how tired she was from being woke up in the middle of the night, the fire in her eyes was unmistakable. Tightening his jaw, he stood his ground, trying to ignore the heat in him that only that look could ignite, "You are sulking."

He felt her hot breath on him. She was practically growling, "Get out."

When he didn't move, she raised her arm and he braced for the hit. Instead she was pointing over his shoulder, "Get out!"

"Fine." Gathering what was left of his confidence, he turned from the red-haired scientist and walked back out into the hallway. The door closed behind him. For a second, he was certain that his knees were going to give out. He wasn't sure how long he stood out there in the hall, but he was suddenly aware of Kinga's door opening behind him. Turning, he saw her there, glaring at him.

"I will expect you there on the floor, with my breakfast made, 5am sharp."

"Yes, Dr. Forrester."

"And knock that off, it's Kinga." The door closed again, and Max breathed a sign of relief.

She was talking to him again.


End file.
